


Driver's Ed.

by kashmir



Category: Saved! (2004)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2004-10-13
Updated: 2004-10-13
Packaged: 2017-10-09 02:34:21
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 671
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/82062
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kashmir/pseuds/kashmir
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Cassandra teaches Roland how to drive.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Driver's Ed.

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this for [Lee Lee](http://www.livejournal.com/users/holycitygirl/) who was heartbroken because she couldn't find any Roland/Cassandra fic after seeing the movie. And OMG IT WAS HET. She wanted to read HET. Who am I to deny you?

"That's it... Ease off the clutch a little... That's it! That's fucking IT!!" She exhaled on the 'ya,' the smoke circling around her head like some sort of halo. Roland smirked at himself for even using that word when thinking of Cassandra. She'd be the first one to admit she had no kind of halo, one of smoke or any other kind.

She'd been chain smoking since they had left the school lot an hour and a half ago. She'd slipped him a note in the hallway before homeroom to meet her outside at 10:45. No explanation. But that was classic Cassandra for you. Roland hadn't questioned it. Had just asked for a bathroom pass in the middle of Literature class and never came back.

He'd rolled himself outside to find Cass waiting for him, smoking a menthol and wearing her trademark sneer. Her face broke into a rare grin as she caught site of him wheeling towards her. She'd crushed the cig under the heel of her shoe and crossed her arms, waiting. When he'd reached her side, he'd raised one pale eyebrow in question. She'd cocked her head at him, straddled his legs and leaned down; close enough that he could smell the tobacco and manufactured mint clinging to her skin.

"C'mon, boy. I'm going to teach you how to drive."

**********************************************  
It had taken him almost two hours but he'd done it. Mastered Cass's beast of a car and it's manual tranny. He grinned widely every time he shifted gears and they didn't grind. Or whenever he didn't pop the clutch. He still wasn't all too good at steering but Cass assured him with time that would come, too.

Cassandra seemed almost as happy as he was at his triumph over machinery. She'd clamped her cigarette between her teeth, clapped loudly with her hands over her head and then leaned over and proceeded to kiss the living daylights out of him.

He'd closed his eyes to concentrate on kissing her back and the next thing he knew, they were narrowly missed a huge truck coming the other way on the two-lane road they were traveling on. Cass had let out a shaky laugh and settled back into her seat before leaning up again a few minutes later and pointing.

"Micky D's. 10 o'clock. I need some food, man. Pull over."

And, as always when it came to Cassandra, Roland obeyed.

**********************************************

There were a few towns over by now, having finished their McNuggets and Big Mac half an hour before, racing headlong towards farm country. Roland watched Cass slump lower in the seat, flicking ashes out of the open window. He realized he should have been cold, as they had both windows rolled the whole way down, despite the late fall chill invading the air.

He knew logically he should be cold. But he wasn't. He was warm. He knew that that had everything to do with the girl sitting not two feet away from him and nothing to do with the Columbia fleece he was sporting over his uniform.

He sailed on down the highway, towards the setting sun, smoking a menthol and listening to some old rock music that Cass had put on when they'd left Micky D's. Perfect for driving, she'd said, as she'd licked her lips at him. Roland hadn't objected; Hilary Faye never let him listen to anything other than Christian music. She tapped her fingers along to the song, beat the rhythm out on her thigh and finally leaned forward from her crouched position on the passenger seat to crank the volume up higher. Foghat (Or was it Hogfat?) blared even louder out of the speakers. Cass looked over at him as she leaned back, gave him a saucy wink and dug another cigarette out of the now sorely depleted pack.

Roland knew they'd have to stop for gas soon. And cigarettes. That eventually they'd have to go back.

But he also knew that, in that very moment, life was pretty damn good.


End file.
